


Forever isn't long enough

by lesbianwdnesdays



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, dream team smp
Genre: Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Gen, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP Spoilers (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianwdnesdays/pseuds/lesbianwdnesdays
Summary: After Wilbur blows up Manberg during the Manberg-Pogtopia war, everything changes. He's dead and doesn't remember anything. The story is the internal monologue of the things that happened to him and him trying to remember his past from the grave.
Kudos: 3





	Forever isn't long enough

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I wanted to make a piece of fanfiction about Ghostbur trying to remember his past (at least retrieving his happy memories) and I've been obsessed with this song called "Forever isn't Long Enough" by this artist called Alfie Templeman and as I listened to it, I realised the song message of 'the further away your memories are, the closer they are to your heart'. When I thought about this I thought about how this message related to Ghostbur and I just thought up the plot of this story lol. 
> 
> I'm sorry if it's not the best, I don't write stories often and especially not fanfiction.

Dying is one thing. Waking up in hell after dying is another. 

I don’t remember exactly what happened. Just flashes of memories. Some good, some bad. I don’t know what was mine and what wasn’t. I remember the cries, the growing up, the family, the deaths. I remember hearing an explosion, an extremely loud one, and then silence. Before I knew it, everything was over, and I was back where I was before. This land I was from before, and that’s all I knew. 

The first thing I notice about this place was the hole. What travesties has this place experienced? I walked along. I have faint memories of this area, this country. There used to be a wall here, what happened? It was huge. And what happened to the caravan in the middle. I was sure that there was a caravan in the middle. 

What had happened here, and where was everyone? It was so quiet, I remember hordes of people here, and a blonde person. A child, a teenager. My younger brother? I didn’t even clock that he was my brother. I didn’t even remember that I had a brother. I think there were two. Two, but one left home pretty quickly after turning 18 I’m sure. What were their names again? Once again, I didn’t remember. Why can’t I remember? Why can’t I remember??? 

Walking around, I see a group of people rebuilding. They’re not bothering to cover up the hole. So many questions, so little answers. I wonder if they can see me. I wonder if I can see me. Looking down, I can see my skin as a translucent grey. It’s almost see-through. And I’ve got this yellow sweater on. Why? I don’t remember wearing this when I died. And why does it have a hole in the middle? I’m so confused. Can these people see me? I don’t really want them to see me, but I still edge closer and hope they don’t notice me (if they even can). 

I can’t quite make out what they’re saying, but I don’t need to. I see the blonde kid (my brother!) conversing with a brunette kid around the same age as him on his left and a slightly older blonde adult to his right. I don’t know if I like him. The blonde man reminds me of something. When I look at him, I feel warmth which then turns to coldness. It’s like I know what he might’ve been to me. When he smiles, I feel like a child again. And the brunette child, why does he also seem familiar. How do I not remember all these people? It’s incredibly frustrating. I just want to know why. 

And it happens. One of them, the brunette kid, turns his head towards me. He looks oddly scared when he sees me. He’s wearing what looks like a military jacket mixed with a suit. “Will?” he asks. Who’s Will, is he me? The other two turn towards me. “I thought you died, I thought Phil killed you.” The first half was already known to me. Of course, I was dead, otherwise I wouldn’t be here in this form. But who was Phil? The guy on his right met my eyes. They were old and weathered, full of love and regret, and despite him looking quite young this you could tell just by seeing him that he was a guy with years of experience on his belt. This was Phil. The brunette kid spoke some more, “How did you end up here? What is going on? Wilbur are you a ghost?!” I was as clueless as he was. I wanted to speak and tell them how confused I am, how I don’t remember much, yet all I could manage was a simple “Hello”. This seemed to get my brothers attention. “Wilbur,” he asked, “is it really you?” “Yes, I think.” I can’t say much for it hurts my throat when I speak. “I don’t remember much, what happened?” They look at each other, and look to me. “Are you kidding?” my brother exclaims. “Tommy, don’t be mean, I don’t think he’s lying.” This time it’s Phil who speaks. His voice sounds different to the others, maybe he’s originally from a different area, more northern. “You happened, son. All of this was all you.”


End file.
